


Red Handed

by Imagining_in_the_Margins



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Apologies, Creampie, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Self-Insert, Smut, Sub Spencer Reid, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24775309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins
Summary: Sub!Spencer. Reader catches Spencer in the act, and then joins in.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 7
Kudos: 260





	Red Handed

The one thing you learn very quickly while working as a profiler at the BAU is that there are very few ways to relax in a cheap hotel room. Honestly, the longer I work here, the less I understand why we choose to stay at places like this on vacation.

Even when the case was over and I sat in this bleached out room with clipart like pictures, I couldn’t find a way to relax. JJ and Elle had tried to show me their methods, hoping that, in the very least, it might trigger some inspiration for me.

Half a bottle of wine later, I found nothing except the realization that I would probably have a headache in the morning. After about 30 minutes of listening to the two girls talk about dating, I decided to finally make my exit for the night. It wasn’t that I was bored by the conversation (Elle had some very interesting stories), but it just reminded me way too much about just how painfully single I was.

… Not that going back to my room would help with that. Not long after I joined, I’d been inadvertently volunteered to room with Spencer. Basically, when we were the only two left, I didn’t complain about it. The truth was, I _enjoyed_ being in his room. Interestingly enough, the genius was pretty quiet at night. If I didn’t talk to him, he spent most of the night quietly reading and occasionally sneaking glances that I’d pretend I didn’t see.

But that was the problem with rooming with Spencer, or spending any time with him at all. The kid was so **fucking** adorable. Every time I looked over and saw those big, soft brown eyes staring at me filled with a curious reverence, all I could picture is how cute he would look with my legs wrapped around his head.

He was a sweet boy. It wouldn’t be right for me to corrupt him like that. So I left him alone, letting him ogle me from afar. As far as I knew, he wasn’t even interested in sex, let alone the type of… activities… that my fantasies involved.

With my half full bottle of wine, I quietly unlocked the door to our shared room, recognizing that Spencer had mentioned he was trying to go to bed early tonight. It was part of why I’d left to hang out with JJ in the first place. The room was almost entirely dark, so I’d stopped for a moment to my eyes to adjust to this new environment.

I wasn’t drunk, but I wasn’t entirely sober either. So when I finally started to move forward, I was probably acting way more cautious than I’d needed to. He wasn’t a fucking bat; he wouldn’t be able to hear my breathing.

Breathing.

That’s what I heard when I inched further down the small corridor by the door. I passed the bathroom, almost tempted to turn on the light just so I could see what was happening. But the quick, irregular beating of my heart was my intuition telling me to stay very still.

I peeked around the corner as silently as I could, and some deep part of my subconscious was trying to prepare me for what I knew I would find. But I honestly didn’t think I would ever be prepared for it.

The curtains hadn’t been drawn completely shut; the pale lights of the small town filtering through the darkness and finding the bed where Spencer lay. It looked like something fit for a fucking painting.

But it wasn’t just the romantic lighting that took my breath away. No, it was the unmistakable sounds flowing from the boy wonder. The heavy breaths belonged to him, and from my precarious position I could see that his head was thrown back, his eyes unable to stay open. There was a quick movement under the covers, and the simple sound of sheets rustling and quiet moans filled the air.

I hadn’t taken a breath in what felt like an hour, but my eyes wouldn’t leave him. The image of him pleasuring himself was far more intoxicating than the wine. Part of me felt terrible for watching him do something so intimate, but the rest of me was just burning with an ungodly amount of lust.

Still, I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t just stand here forever - eventually he would figure it out. Being a mature adult, I decided that it would probably be best for me to just sneak back out of the room, no matter how much I _didn’t_ want to do that.

Slowly, my feet began to step backwards. It was a good, simple plan. It should have been easy to leave the same way I came, but fate clearly had other plans. Because before I got too far, Spencer’s voice stopped me in my tracks.

“(Y/n)…” 

What happened next was a _goddamn disaster_. I would like to blame the alcohol for my stupid ass decisions, but in my heart I knew I would have had the same reaction even if I were stone-cold sober. Because Spencer Reid moaning my name while touching himself in the room that we shared was too overwhelming a sound. With an audible gasp, I dropped the wine bottle I’d been holding.

It clattered onto the ground, alerting Spencer of my presence in the most chaotic possible manner. Unable to think of literally anything else to do, I practically leaped into the bathroom beside me.

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ That was the only thing I could even begin to think, my brain looping the last five seconds over and over in my head.

“(Y/n)?” Spencer called out, his voice in an entirely different register.

“Hey Spencer!” I yelled back with an equally uncomfortable voice, “I’m going to take a shower really quick! Sorry to bother you!”

_Smooth._

If he suspected I’d seen him, he did the right thing and said **literally nothing about it**. From my new position in the bathroom, the silence was somehow even more uncomfortable than what had just happened.

After a moment of attempting to reboot my broken psyche, I realized that I should actually shower if I was going to figure out how to keep up this charade of acting like I hadn’t just caught my adorably innocent coworker jacking off to the thought of me. I mean, that had to be what was happening, right? There was no way I’d misheard my own fucking name.

Taking advantage of the excuse to take a ridiculously cold shower, I pondered my options for the rest of the night as carefully as I could. There were a few different ways to handle this. I could act like nothing had happened, and continue to wonder what fascinating fantasies the doctor had drummed up in that brilliant mind. Or, I could confront him.

The second option, while riskier, also had the potential for some of the most delicious payoff. It also had the direst consequences. Because there were only two ways that I could realistically see myself letting that option end: Either I would finally figure out just how cute he looked with his face buried between my legs, or we could literally never interact as normal coworkers ever again. And honestly, that second one might happen no matter what.

Unfortunately, the best person to ask about the statistics of the outcomes of coworkers sleeping together was precisely the person I couldn’t ask about this right now.

I tried to get a handle on my thoughts, but the longer they reverted back to Spencer, the more complex the fantasies got each time. Now when I heard him moan my name, I could also feel it being whispered against my neck. I could picture the way that devilish little tongue he liked to sweep over his lips would feel in more interesting places.

Without even noticing, my hand had made its way between my legs, lightly tracing the areas I wanted to feel him touch. But my hands weren’t enough, and it was honestly bullshit to think that I would have to get myself off for something that _he_ had started!

I held onto that frustration, allowing it to feed into my egotistical desire to go lay claim to the apparently not-so-innocent boy I’d just caught red handed. Because if he wanted to use me to get off, then the least he could do was repay the fucking favor.

Barely drying myself off, I tried to look as presentable as possible without also losing my nerve. I wrapped myself in the skimpy hotel towel, tucking the free corner into the top and running my hands through my damp hair one more time.

Once I walked out of the bathroom, I would be crossing the point of no return. But truthfully, we’d already crossed that point the second that damn wine bottle hit the ground. So, I thought, fuck it!

Upon opening the door, I noticed that the room was significantly lighter than it had been when I got here. It was obvious that Spencer had been unable to sleep after that massive hit of adrenaline - which meant that he was either planning on ignoring me once I came out of the shower, or he had planned to talk to me.

Spencer was a planner. Much like how he played chess, he liked to know all of the potential futures. With _everything_. If you ever watched him in the silence, you would see the gears turning in his mind, running through every possible divergence of whatever action he was focused on.

But I can confidently say that, based on the look of shock on his face, Spencer had never expected this to happen.

“Hey—“ He started, looking up at me before his eyes widened, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as his voice disappeared mid-sentence. With his mouth hung open I could see how his tongue rolled in on itself before he bit down on it, trying to hide the obvious arousal that had immediately developed at the sight of me barely covered in the crisp white hotel towel.

I didn’t speak. I started by bending over to pick up the still tightly fastened wine bottle, setting it down on the desk beside me before I continued on my path towards his bed. When our eyes locked, all I felt was the anxiety rolling off him in waves.

“W-What are you doing?” He’d waited until I was right beside him to ask the question. His hand closest to me gripped the covers of the bed in the hopes to distract me from the way his legs shifted to try and hide further evidence of his undoubtedly lewd thoughts.

My fingers found their way to the back of that same hand he’d used moments earlier, drifting softly against the skin. He was practically shaking underneath me when I decided to give him some reprieve from his silent suffering.

“I heard you.” I spoke softly, but he responded even quieter.

“What?”

“I heard you say my name.”

His hand shifted under my touch, lightly pulling away, but not enough to separate us entirely. “I didn’t—“ He started to deny it, but I wasn’t in the mood to listen. There wasn’t enough time in the night for him to pretend like it hadn’t happened.

“Get up.” I ordered simply, bringing both hands up to cross over my chest.

“Why?” It wasn’t a bad question. There were many reasons I might have demanded he get up. For example, I might have wanted him to get up to kick him out of the room, or in the very least humiliate him by forcing him to show me the tent that had pitched in his pants since the second I walked out of the bathroom.

“Get out of the bed.” I repeated.

“I don’t…” The weak response wasn’t even well thought out. I gave him another second to come up with words to end the sentence, but he just kept tumbling over his tongue.

“ **Now**.”

This time, Spencer complied almost immediately. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed towards me, he stopped before our bodies could come too close together. I wondered if he could feel the heat of my body against him from this distance.

Regardless, if he didn’t before, he would soon. When he sat up it didn’t last long. Swiftly and with the full force of physical training that was required for most of us, present company excluded, I grabbed his arm and pulled him from the bed.

He stumbled onto the ground, which happened to be exactly where I wanted him. From the way he didn’t even try to get up from his knees, I think he knew it, too.

I stared down at him from my new position with a cold glare that was harder to keep up than I thought it would be. Honestly, all I wanted to do was smile at just how precious he was. He’d taken so quickly to his role. But he didn’t deserve my smiles or praise yet; he had been a naughty, selfish boy.

“Apologize to me.”

Spencer kept looking at me with those big puppy dog eyes, like he could beg me to take mercy on him so soon. When he didn’t get his way, he managed to squeak out the most pathetic apology I’d ever heard.

“I’m sorry.”

I didn’t believe him.

“Why are you sorry, Spencer?”

The only thing worse than no apology at all was an apology that wasn’t genuine. He didn’t even know what he was sorry for, just that I wanted him to say it. And as flattering as it was that he was eager to please me, I also wanted the apology I deserved.

“I-I don’t know.” At least he admitted his own incompetence when it came to social situations. Especially such… delicate ones. But I believed in his ability to be a fast learner.

“Sure you do. You’re a genius, right? You can figure it out.” I cooed, using one hand to run through his hair. I’d always wanted to touch it, but never had an excuse. Until now. It was even softer than I’d imagined.

I couldn’t wait to see just how much I could make him do with a good handle on that hair. But for now, I just enjoyed the way it slipped through my fingers.

When he still didn’t answer my question, I decided to give him another chance. “Why are you sorry, Spencer?”

His head followed my hand, but his eyes fell to the ground at my feet. I could hear the shift in his breathing and see the way his hands began to clench as he tried to think of how to get out of this mess.

“Now you’ve got nothing to say, huh?” I teased, deciding that I already missed the way it felt for him to look at me. With all the care in the world, I gently lifted his chin with the tips of my fingers, guiding his attention back to me just in time for me to start to pull at the edge of the towel that held it in place.

“Would it help if I took this off?”

Before the plush fabric could even hit the ground, I heard a small whimper escape Spencer’s lips. He clenched his eyes shut in an obvious attempt to avoid looking at me.

While I knew he was trying to protect himself - to prevent the obvious manifestation of his desire in his eyes - I couldn’t help but tease him. “Am I not pretty enough to look at?”

“N-No—“ He stammered, his eyes opening and the vision before him stealing the words from his mouth.

“No, I’m not pretty?” I asked with an angry pout, my other hand rising to tangle in his hair.

“No! I-I—“ Despite the struggle, he managed to keep his eyes open and on me long enough to formulate one coherent thought. “You’re… beautiful.”

The words were music to my ears, but I couldn’t let myself enjoy them just yet. Because if he really thought I was so beautiful, then it was downright unacceptable that he would let his eyes wander away from me as often as they were. The restlessness was not welcome when he was with me.

Grabbing fistfuls of his beautiful chestnut locks, I pulled on them hard enough to elicit a surprised yelp. He scrambled to find the ground beneath him, to stop himself from tumbling forward or grabbing onto my naked body for balance.

“Then **look at me**.” I ordered forcefully, my teeth clenched together as I held his head just high enough that he still had to look up to meet my eyes.

Slowly, he did, his eyes sharing that same quiet adoration he always tried to hide. I could practically hear him begging me to show mercy for the way his tongue tied itself into knots. I didn’t listen.

“Apologize to me.” I insisted, tugging his hair so that he would expose more of his throat to me. He struggled to keep his eyes on mine, but he managed to do so.

“I’m so sorry.” The pathetic crackling was more genuine than his previous apology, probably only because he knew exactly what to apologize for this time.

I released his hair, watching him drop back to his knees while trying not to look away from me for a second. Pride swelled in my chest at how easily he’d fallen into this role. It wasn’t surprising, but it was nice nonetheless. With two gentle hands, I gingerly fixed his hair before withdrawing from him completely.

“Take off your shirt and stand up.”

Now. It seemed when I gave an order, he was already halfway there by the time the words left my tongue. Quick to stand, he took a little bit longer to take off his shirt. I knew he was self conscious about his looks. It was hard not to be when his best friend was Derek Morgan.

But I loved the sharp angles of his body that were contrasted with the softness of his features. I liked to run my fingers down his skin and see the way his muscles tensed at my touch.

“You’re such a pretty boy, Spencer.” I whispered as I did exactly that, my nails dragging over pale skin. Goosebumps rippled from my touch. “ _My pretty boy_.” 

He released his breath slowly, an imperceptible smile twitching at the corners of his lips from the praise. He was having a hard time looking at me now, but I didn’t mind. Instead, I just walked behind him, reaching my arms around and slipping them into the waistband of his pants.

This time, his breath hitched in his throat, his entire body jerking as my hands didn’t bother waiting around any longer. I wanted to have him as naked as I was. I wanted to have all of him, as soon as I could.

I pulled down the pants just enough that gravity removed them the rest of the way. Running my hands over his hip bones, I hummed at the way he audibly gasped when I drew near his arousal. “I love how sensitive you are to my touch.” I whispered into his ear, noticing how his head turned towards the feel of my breath against him.

It didn’t last long, though. After a brief moment of admiring his figure, I left him in his place just long enough that I could grab the wine bottle I’d abandoned on the desk earlier. I grabbed one of the shitty plastic wine glasses the girls had bought and poured myself another half serving.

The truth was, I was probably just as nervous as Spencer. Maybe. I’m pretty sure I could hear the poor thing’s heart beating from across the room. When I looked back, I noticed that he’d reverted to his earlier position, of his head bent back and his hands clenching the air.

I wasn’t entirely sure if he was trying not to touch himself or if he was just trying to will some confidence into himself. But he wouldn’t need confidence with me; I’d give it to him.

“Get back on your knees.”

The words broke his concentration, and he quickly complied. His eyes trailed after me as I passed, his heavy breath loud enough that I was surprised I didn’t feel it on my legs when I sat down in front of him.

He was staring cautiously at the way I began to unfold my legs, curling one finger to beckon him closer to me. Making his way over to me, he was still careful not to touch me. He was waiting for permission, which I then gave by smoothing one hand over the sensitive skin of my inner thigh before giving a gentle pat.

No words were necessary, and Spencer bent forward to rest his cheek against my leg. His eyelids fluttered shut, his breath now feeling cool against my heated skin. Just that sensation alone was already filling me with a deep need for the man currently nuzzling my thigh.

Running my hand through his hair again, I drank half the contents of my glass to hopefully distract myself from how badly I wanted to just order him to fuck me already. But then he started to move against the skin, desperate, tiny mewls stumbling from his lips.

“ _Good boy_ ,” I whispered, guiding him closer to my heat by his hair, “Since you can’t figure out how to properly say you’re sorry, I’ll let you apologize another way.”

His eyes opened at that, and I felt him swallow against my leg. His breathing was so thready I was a little concerned he might actually pass out.

“Go on. Be a good boy,” I reassured him with a sly smile, “I’ve seen that tongue. I know you’ll make me feel good.” It took surprisingly _very_ little encouragement to convince Spencer to do what I wanted him to do. Before I’d even finished talking, he had pressed his face against me, slipping his tongue between my folds.

“Fuck!” I immediately cursed, gripping my glass tighter when he began making long strokes up and down my entrance. After the briefest introduction, his methods went from shy and hesitant to full on _ravenous_.

Keeping his hands between his legs, he buried himself against me so closely I wasn’t sure how he would manage to breathe. Then again, he didn’t seem to care, breathing in only the sounds of pleasure he could force out of me with his mouth.

“Shit, Spencer.” I gasped, causing him to stop his ministrations and look up at my heaving chest.

It was the last thing I wanted him to do, so I quickly ran my hand through his hair and pulled him back against me. “Don’t stop,” I begged, dropping my head back when he immediately returned to slow lapping motions, “ _God_ , I love that mouth of yours.”

The praise had its intended effect, with Spencer muffling a small moan against me. The gentle vibrations earned him a large smile while I quickly downed the rest of my drink, realizing that I wouldn’t have nearly as much downtime as I’d originally thought.

This either wasn’t his first rodeo, or he was a much quicker learner than I’d thought. Then again, he had probably memorized a million anatomy books. Maybe that researcher mentality was worth something to me, after all.

But it all still wasn’t enough, and I wanted to see just how much more he could give. “Touch me, Spencer,” I ordered, my voice husky and filled with urgency, “Use that hand you used on _yourself._ ”

Once again, he moaned against me between thick lapping motions, his tongue exploring as deep inside of me as he could before he would replace it with his finger. He started with just one, and immediately I was surprised by just how much more stimulating it was.

I’d fantasized before about those large hands, but now that he was struggling to fit another finger in, I glanced down at his legs and wondered how the fuck I was supposed to take all of him.

But Spencer wasn’t worried about that, or anything else, at all. Once he did get the second finger in, he began to pump them into me at an exponentially increasing rate. The empty glass tumbled from my hand onto the floor beside him as I grabbed his hair with both hands.

I wanted to share my thoughts, to tell him that he was amazing and how close I was to finishing on those ever-gesticulating fingers, but I couldn’t. My voice was replaced with loud, throaty moans and garbled attempts at his name.

Recognizing that my end was fast approaching, Spencer closed his lips around the small nub at my crest, his tongue beginning to make small, feverish circles around it. My nails were digging into his scalp, my legs closing tightly around him while I bucked helplessly against him.

If he was at all struggling, he didn’t make it obvious. In fact, he seemed extremely pleased with his current situation, his moans heavier and louder. Once they had calmed down, he applied a soft suckling pressure that tore me from reality, tossing me headfirst into an ocean of pure euphoria.

The inaudible scream contorted my face, and I let my body curl around him, riding the waves of pleasure he granted with a roll of his tongue.

“Spencer,” I purred breathlessly when I finally started to come back to the Earth. As the tension against him relented, he barely stopped to take a breath before immediately continuing what he was doing.

Normally, if I had all the time in the world, I would have let him continue to lap up the evidence of my desire. But right now I was still exhausted, even more so because of my orgasm, and I wanted to make sure we still had time for me to take him on a proper ride.

Tearing him away from me was harder than I expected. He resisted my efforts until I’d all but pried him off me, and even then his fingers and tongue stayed on course until they couldn’t reach anymore. I looked down at him, craning his head back and licking the area around his lips to try and taste me on his skin.

“You’re so fucking _adorable_.” I was almost pained by the sight, wishing that I could borrow his memory just to remember this moment forever. I traced the outline of his jaw with both hands, coming down to wipe his face.

He smiled, and it was beautiful to see. I realized it was the first time he’d given me a full on grin the whole night, and I was melting. “Come lie down,” I whispered when I finished cleaning his face, patting next to me on the bed.

In a fashion fit for Spencer, he climbed into the bed and immediately attempted to curl up against my side. His hands were still kept close to his chest, his body wrapping around me while he tried to calm his still erratic heart.

“Hmm. Why am I not surprised you’re a little cuddle bug?” I teased, my hand drawing lazy patterns over his side. He hummed happily back, pliable under my hands that eventually coaxed him onto his back.

“Are you having fun, pretty boy?”

The question was genuine, but it seemed almost unnecessary after it’d been said. He was staring up at me with a dopey, lovesick smile, his hand trying to grab mine when I dragged my palm over his chest. When he remembered that I was waiting for an answer, he gave a little nod.

“Use your words.” I reminded him, letting him take my hand and squeeze it tightly.

“Yes,” he crackled, his voice weary from what he’d been busy using his mouth for, “Yes, you’re amazing.”

“And here I thought you had run out of words.” I chuckled, crawling on top of him and resting against his hips.

“There are other things I’d like to do with my mouth instead.” He mumbled, his tongue darting out before he dragged his bottom lip between his teeth. Spencer’s apparent penchant for going down on me was duly noted and much appreciated, but it wasn’t what I wanted from him right now.

“Oh?” I responded, using my thumb to pull and press against his soft yet chapped lips that had been pressed against me moments before. He was clearly feeding off the attention, and before I could stop him, he’d taken my thumb into his mouth, sucking gently on the digit while his tongue covered whatever it could reach.

With a buck of my hips, I tried to reroute my mind. “As talented as your mouth is,” I breathily moaned, “I want to try something else.”

My body was quickly growing impatient, my legs nearly shaking with the need to ride this man for all he was worth. Inching closer to his erection, I used one hand to grip him firmly, earning a loud grunt and a weak thrust from him.

“A-Are you… sure?”

I was impressed he could maintain the willpower to ask, and it started to worry me. As much fun as it was to boss him around, I would hate to make him do something he didn’t want to. Before I went any further, I slowed my hand down to a halt, running my other hand down the side of his face.

“You can tell me no, pretty boy,” I reassured him, “I won’t be upset with you.” 

“No! I-I…. I want you to!” He practically shouted, “I want—“ I didn’t let him get the thought out, my hand around him tightening and beginning to sloppily stroke him. Somehow, he persisted, eventually concluding with a strangled, “I want to make you feel good.”

I giggled, drawing my body up further and dragging my now soaked sex against his cock still in my hand. “Are you sure you’re not just being selfish, Dr. Reid?”

His eyes rolled, his breath hitching as he pressed his hips up against me. But I didn’t let him come closer, maintaining my distance and the pace of the gentle roll of my hips. I noticed out of the corner of my eyes that his hands were hovering, struggling not to touch me. His willpower was more impressive than I’d originally guessed.

“Tell me,” I started, running my hands down his chest while I continued to rock against him, “is this what you were fantasizing about?”

“ _Fuck_.”

The word was like music to my ears. It was so rare for Spencer to curse, and to know that I was the one driving him to such lengths filled my chest with butterflies. My hips were moving faster, trying to elicit more lascivious noises from him.

“There’s my _naughty_ boy.” I said between a moan. Spencer’s thrusts were becoming more purposeful, each one lining up with me in a specific position on top of him. I wasn’t stupid; I knew what he was doing.

“Were you thinking about how it would feel to fuck me?”

He only whimpered in response, his head lolling in a sad attempt at a nod. It was confirmation enough for me, although in another situation I might have made him answer with his words. The poor thing was clearly overwhelmed.

He wouldn’t have gotten away with it if he wasn’t so cute. But there was something about his eyes screwed shut, his mouth either hung open or clenched so tightly his teeth would grind against each other.

On the next thrust, I let him achieve his desired result, letting the head of his cock breach my folds just enough to draw another loud, broken moan from him.

“Now that you know what I feel like,” I teased, freezing in place and holding his hips down, “I bet it’s all you can think about, huh?”

“Yes, please, (y/n).” My name was uttered with such a pure longing and desperation, it took my breath away. Once I started to pull away from him, his hands made the daring move of grabbing my hips, although they didn’t apply much pressure yet.

“Please what?” I asked, quirking my head to the side.

“Please, fuck me.” If that crudeness wasn’t enough, he quickly followed it up with an even more broken, “I’ll do whatever you want.”

Removing my hands from his hips, I placed them on top of his. I led them up my sides, purposefully avoiding my breasts as I drew them along my collar bones. “Oh really? Anything?”

“Yes,” he pleaded, “ _Please_.”

“Okay pretty boy.” I finally acquiesced, removing both of his hands from my chest much to his dismay. “Then what I want you to do…” I placed them gently by his sides, squeezing them to offer the option to hold onto the sheets instead, “is for you to stay just like this and look real pretty for me while I enjoy myself.”

His heavy breathing only got worse the longer I took, and once his hands were positioned I cradled his face in my hand, trying to draw his attention back to me. He opened those hazel eyes, filled with pure devotion and fervor. “Can you do that for me?” I asked, tracing along his jaw one more time.

Spencer went to nod, but then corrected himself, his voice shaking with enthusiasm, “Yes. Whatever you want.”

“Good boy.” That was the last thing shared between us before I repositioned my hips, slowly sinking down onto his length. The longer I drew it out, the longer and louder he would moan, his hands crinkling the sheets.

“God, you feel so fucking good, Spencer.” I whined, a delirious smile spreading across my cheeks. I slid onto him with ease, slick with his saliva and my own arousal from all his hard work. “You did such a good job getting me ready for your cock.”

I was absolutely certain that he deserved the praise, his hands remaining right where I’d placed them. His eyes were fixated on me, even through a lustful haze. It was clear how highly he viewed me, his entire body trembling with each movement.

“I’m so proud of you, my pretty boy.” I continued, my hands now exploring every inch of his chest and arms while I rocked on him, still not giving him the kind of stimulation that he desired. “Say my name.”

“(Y/n)…” Although it was quick, his voice was still so muted. It sounded so much like when he was trying to hide his illicit behavior. But I wanted to hear it. I wanted to hear him begging my name, savoring the way it tasted on his tongue.

“Louder,” I ordered, “I want everyone to hear how badly you want me.”

“(Y/n),” my name fell from his lips louder now, but he was still biting his tongue. I must admit, I was also a little distracted, my mind focused entirely on his full I felt with him inside of me.

My hips were lifting in small, rhythmic motions, slowly rising and falling to enjoy the way my body stretched to accommodate his size. While I hummed happily, Spencer’s throat was filled with high pitched moans.

“You look so pretty like this.” I said with a smile, a single finger toying with his bottom lip while my other hand was firmly pressed against his chest for balance. The muscles of his stomach and arms were tensed with restraint.

But then something inside of me swelled as I realized just how close we were to having never experienced this moment. Spencer would have been happy to let me get myself off in the shower, and then go to bed and act like it never happened.

The thought took over me, and the next time I slowly raised my hips, I dropped back onto him with my full body weight.

“(Y/n)!” He shouted, his hands lifting off the sheets before gripping even more of the hotel sheets. His lips kept moving to mouth my name, but no words were coming out.

“I can’t believe you were going to deprive me of this.” I scowled, looking down at him with the bottled up frustration of all the nights I’d gone to bed with him only a few feet away. Luckily for Spencer, though, that’s when he finally built up the courage and sincerity to say the two magic words.

“I’m sorry.”

I felt the words as they fell from his lips, my hips slowly down and my movements becoming shallower in return. “Are you?” I teased, “Are you _really_ sorry?”

“Yes! Fuck—!“ He yelled as I slammed back down onto him, his entire body jerking under me. His hands gripped the bed so hard the sheets lifted off, pathetic sobs wrecking his body. “Yes, I’m sorry. I’m _so_ sorry.”

I let my pace quicken, my hips dropping in rough, deep motions. “Doesn’t this feel better than your fucking hand?” I groaned, biting my bottom lip and trying to commit the feeling of him to memory.

“Yes. You feel amazing,” he praised, his face contorted in absolute bliss while he tried to keep his eyes open, “Y-You’re perfect.” I could see from his eyes just how closely he was watching me, trying to build a repertoire of images for him to recall later when I wasn’t around.

But that was the thing; he wouldn’t need to remember this to bring it back. Because as far as I was concerned, he was mine. We could have each other whenever and wherever we pleased. If he wanted to use me to get himself off, there would always be a consequence to pay if he failed to return the favor. 

“Next time you want to touch yourself,” I warned, grabbing his chin roughly, “remember that no hand will _ever_ compare to the way I can make you feel.”

“I want to show you.” He panted, a thin veil of sweat forming on his face while he tried to maintain his breathing, “I want to show you how sorry I am.” He must have seen the hesitant curiosity on my face, because he quickly followed up with a clearer explanation, “I-I want to fuck you.”

There was something in those warm hazel eyes that steeled over; a dark, burning desire to match my intensity. I couldn’t stop the smirk that crept over my lips at the thought of Spencer losing control.

“Fine.” I said with a brief shrug, prying his hands off the sheets and placing them at my hips, “Fuck me, then.”

As soon as my hands had left, he gripped my hips hard enough to leave ten small red crescents in their wake. I sighed at the contact, closing my eyes just for a second to enjoy the rare display of force. But his thrusts weren’t as powerful, starting slow and relatively shallow compared to how I’d been riding him.

“I said **fuck me** , Spencer.” I mumbled, trying to come down harder on him. But his hands stopped me, so I whined in frustration. “Show me what you were fantasizing about,” I spat, “ **Fuck me!** ”

Apparently, my words struck a chord within Spencer, and soon after his grip on my hips was used to hold me down while he drove into me like a man unhinged. My entire body shook with each thrust, and part of me was just shocked by how much power he had hidden in that thin figure. With each motion, he bottomed out inside of me.

“Spencer!” I cried out, my hands gripping the bed to stop me from falling on top of him. Our eyes were locked, his hands now forcing me further down against him as his thrusts became disjointed. 

“(Y/n), I-I can’t hold on much longer.” He whined, his eyes barely able to stay open. “You feel so good. You—fuck!” He threw his head back when I clamped down on him, a string of foreign curses quickly following. 

“Fuck, Spencer, I’m almost there.” I begged, “Please—!” I didn’t even notice the way he had snuck his hand between our bodies, his thumb swiping over my clit and eliciting a shrill moan from me.

“Harder!” The vague instruction wasn’t lost on Spencer, who chose to increase the power of both his hips and hands. Within seconds, I was collapsing in on myself. The tension that had built up in my stomach was about to snap.

I opened my eyes, immediately finding Spencer’s soft yet determined gaze. Without considering why, I lowered myself to close the gap between us. Our lips crashed together for the first time, not bothering to waste the precious little time that remained in our first night alone together. Our tongues found each other quickly, and I wondered why it felt like I’d kissed him a million times before.

It was the gentle, loving moan that Spencer shared between our lips that pushed me over the edge. My arms wrapped around the pillow under his head, pulling our mouths closer together while my trembling legs tightened around him. Spencer’s motions didn’t stop, the tight circles he drew at my crest and his thrusts continuing despite the resistance of my walls fluttering around him.

Eventually, once he felt my body begin to relax, he followed after me. With a few more sloppy thrusts, he used both hands to force me down flush against him. I cried out at the sensation of him bottoming out in me before flooding me with his warmth.

“Spencer,” I sobbed, my mouth unable to stay on his any longer. My body slid down against him, going limp in his arms while he gave a few more thrusts to ensure that my body would take every drop he had to offer.

We laid there for a long while, and once I got my strength back, I tangled my hands in his hair, my head resting against the crook of his neck. I peppered little kisses against the sensitive skin, enjoying the way his happy humming sent vibrations through my lips.

“You’re such a good boy,” I purred against him, my hips moving just enough to cause him to jerk under my touch. He sighed, his hands sliding across my back and holding me against him.

With a hushed, drunk laugh, I whispered in his ear. “You know what?”

Spencer paused, turning to try and look at me from our tangled position.

“I think I forgive you.”

—

The next morning was the most pleasant I think I’d ever been after a case. I managed to dodge the suspicious glances from JJ and Elle, but only barely. When they’d asked me why I seemed so much happier than when I left, I’d just told them the truth… I’d taken a shower and figured some stuff out. I just left out what I’d figured out, and everything else that followed.

I knew they didn’t really believe me, but I guess they also found the possible theories too implausible. They didn’t bring it up again, and we all sat quietly and tried to enjoy the same old boring continental breakfast.

“Why, would you look at that?” Morgan’s voice was the first to break the monotony, a big grin on his face as he motioned to the man that had finally come to join us. “Reid’s awake in time for breakfast.”

Spencer’s groggy smile quickly faded at the jab, and he shied away from the group and headed straight for his favorite part of the day. “It’s not that uncommon,” he mumbled while filling a cup with sugar and a splash of coffee.

“I don’t know. Something seems different about you.”

I wasn’t sure if Morgan was just being facetious, or if he had genuinely noticed a change in his best friend. Because let’s be honest – Spencer has _always_ been jumpy and shy. Then again, maybe that was what Morgan sensed. Because as soon as Spencer met my eyes, there was the tiniest flash of a smile.

“You’re being ridiculous,” he replied, turning to join his friend at the table. I didn’t blame him for not wanting to sit next to me. We hadn’t exactly discussed how this morning would go, but a little distance was probably a good idea.

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

The words were uttered at the worst possible time. Right as Spencer had taken a sip, he’d just as quickly choked on the hot liquid, sputtering half the contents out of his mouth. I barely withheld my laugh, stifling it with my hand while I tried to avoid looking at the two men to our left.

Elle was watching me with narrowed eyes and a clever smirk, noting the way I was struggling to hide my reaction. It wasn’t until then that I realized how much more suspicious it would seem that I wouldn’t want to laugh.

Spencer took off to the bathroom, presumably to clean off the coffee he’d just gotten all over his chest. Meanwhile, I returned to mine, sipping it and avoiding eye contact with both of the women now turned to me.

“… what did I say?” Morgan asked, clueless to the entire situation. Once he looked over to us, Elle finally gained the confidence to voice her conclusion, albeit in a sneaky manner.

“Really?” She laughed, “ _Pretty boy_?”

“What?” I cheekily replied with a small shrug, “He _is_ pretty.”


End file.
